


The Melding of Souls

by melonbutterfly



Series: The Sentinel Crossover 'Verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Sentinel/Guide, Sentinel/Guide Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-15
Updated: 2011-07-15
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:24:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melonbutterfly/pseuds/melonbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel's actual bonding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Melding of Souls

"I need," his Sentinel gasps, "I need, I need-" It's the first time Castiel hears his voice, he registers absently.

"Yes," Castiel replies breathlessly, fingers tangled in his Sentinel's hair. "Yes, yes, everything, everything." One of his hands is balled in his Sentinel's shirt in the small of his back, pulling aimlessly. He wants it off, off.

His Sentinel doesn't seem inclined to wait one moment longer, though; he won't even let Castiel pull him away just so they can get rid of their clothes. It seems he spent all his patience on the wait from the car ride to the private house the Organisation provided and can't wait any longer now.

Not that Castiel is that much more collected; he feels breathless, his head is whirling and during the car ride, his Sentinel pressed close, he could barely keep it together. He doesn't even really remember how they got here, into this room onto this bed; he doesn't know when Marie and Sophie left. But it's not important anymore anyway; all that counts now is his Sentinel and that they complete the fifth and most important stage of bonding: _merging._

However, he needs to get something out of the way first.

"Your name," he gasps, pulling harder at his Sentinel's shirt. His Sentinel's face is buried in his neck; he breathes in deeply, taking in all of Castiel's scents. Castiel's whole family uses unscented products by habit; Castiel and James decided early on not to use scented anything so they all wouldn't get used to products they'd later have to abandon if and when the twins would find their Sentinels. It's paying back now, just like it did when James found Amelia; Castiel knows that right now, his Sentinel would be in trouble if Castiel had been using scented soaps and deodorant.

But still he can't let him indulge yet; he at least needs to know his name first. "Your name," he repeats breathlessly, pulling again, "What's your name?"

His Sentinel makes a confused noise; Castiel practically feels his hurt blooming in his chest as if it were his own when he pulls at his shirt again. With a gasp he stops pulling and immediately slings his arms tightly around his Sentinel's back instead, wraps his legs around his hips and hums in the back of his throat, heart pounding in his ears. Thankfully, his Sentinel calms again, letting go of his tight grip and humming back. Castiel feels like he had a close brush with catastrophe; his Sentinel isn't at all coherent anymore and took his pulling as rejection, which could have ended very badly. Clearly, they aren't going to get the introductions out of the way right now; Castiel decides to let it go. Names are not that important anyway. They have the rest of their lives together, there'll be time for Castiel to find out his Sentinel's name.

Sliding his hand up his Sentinel's spine, Castiel curls his fingers in his hair again; his Sentinel makes a noise low in his throat and rolls his hips into Castiel's. They're both hard; probably have been since the beach, though Castiel hadn't really paid attention then. And his Sentinel is pulling him down again, and this time Castiel can let him; he feels a delighted shiver run through him as he realises yet again that this is his now, this Sentinel belongs to him and Castiel belongs to him and whatever might happen, they're going to do it together now. A small part of him is terrified and worried, but Castiel pushes it back, because there's no time for that now. This, this is what they're doing now; _merging,_ the final stage, made up of the second phases of _adapting_ and _imprinting,_ and it all meshes together into what they'll be when they're finished – completely and truly bonded.

And Castiel gets lost in the whirlwind of it all; adapting, getting used to not being alone in his head anymore, to the fact that he's complete now. Mindlessly, he pushes back against his Sentinel, who growls happily. Castiel tightens his fingers in his short hair; he wants to take off their clothes, wants skin, but he's lost all his finesse; he can barely tell which way is up as his Sentinel rolls them across the mattress until Castiel is wedged into the corner between wall and bed, covered completely by his Sentinel's body. They're still wearing their _shoes,_ for fuck's sake, but Castiel couldn't care less as he loses his mind in the reckless push-pull-more- _closer._

His own heartbeat is loud in his ears; he faintly hears himself gasp and make noises, but he concentrates much more on the noises his Sentinel makes, happy, needy sounds that make Castiel happy in return. Castiel forgets everything but the man covering his body; he would have forgotten to breathe if it weren't instinctive. Just as instinctive as this is, in fact – Castiel practically feels the reasoning part of his brain shut off as the bonding drive takes over. All that matters now is his mate, his Sentinel, and he pushes closer, wants more, more, more. And his Sentinel pushes back against him, and together, they mindlessly drive each other higher and higher until they reach their first climax.

When after a while Castiel emerges from the hazy lull they fell into after that first rush, it's to wet pants and his Sentinel lying heavily on top of him. He's sweaty and it should be altogether uncomfortable, but he feels the best he has ever felt in all his life.

Still, he'd prefer if they were a little more naked; he still wants skin. He slides his hands under his Sentinel's sweaty t-shirt and pushes it up, but his Sentinel doesn't seem inclined to move; his face is still buried in Castiel's neck. Castiel feels nothing but amusement and an inexplicable fondness at that; it seems it will be a while yet before they'll get undressed.

But they might get one thing out of the way, now that the burning has been calmed a bit.

Smoothing his hands down his Sentinel's naked back, he introduces himself again, speaking in the deep, slow intonation he learned at school that is normally supposed to help pull a Sentinel out of his zone. "I'm Castiel. What's your name?"

His Sentinel huffs and _bites_ him; not hard enough to draw blood, which is a good thing because Castiel doesn't think they're quite ready for that just yet. But then he pulls away, surprisingly; his green eyes sparkle with amused annoyance as he says curtly, "Dean."

Castiel smiles and draws a breath to reply something, but a hand covers his mouth only to be replaced moments later by warm lips, and then a tongue pushes into his mouth. Before Castiel can even think of returning the kiss, it's over already; Dean pulls away and pushes his face back against his neck, this time the other side. A wet, warm tongue licks down his jugular and suddenly, Dean is biting again, only with intent this time. It's not quite the second imprint, but very close; a lot closer than Castiel thought it'd be.

Impatient; his Sentinel is impatient, Castiel thinks with a delighted flutter deep in his belly. Clearly, Castiel has a lot less control over the situation than he thought he would have; at school he had been taught something else, but fuck if he cares. No, actually, he finds he likes it; he never would have thought, because he always, always has to be in control – of himself, the household, the money, everything. He had thought he would have to be in control of this too, what with him being the Guide, and not that he would've minded; quite the contrary. But, as Dean tightens his grip on him, making his intent and possession as clear as if he had said it, Castiel finds this a lot more thrilling than he might have expected, had he known.

The bite hurts, when his Sentinel finally lets up; Dean is licking his lips as he pulls back, eyes dark and expression satisfied, though still hungry. Castiel doesn't realise he's smiling broadly up at him until Dean returns the smile; he feels the giddiness course through the both of them, it's almost silly.

"Castiel, huh?", Dean says and rolls his hips; he's wearing a very self-satisfied expression.

"Yes," Castiel replies and runs one hand up Dean's chest to cup his cheek. "Dean."

Dean grins. Placing one hand on Castiel's chest, he pushes away a little more and looks him up and down; Castiel feels the smugness in him intensify. "I'm going to keep you."

It makes Castiel laugh; in society, it's widely believed that it's the other way around: the Guide keeps the Sentinel. But he certainly doesn't mind if they're going to do things a little different. He returns the grin. "I hope so." He pushes his hips up into Dean's and curls his fingers again in his shirt. "Can we take this off now?"

Dean chuckles and leans down again. First Castiel thinks he's going to kiss him, but he only brushes their lips together for a moment before he leans further down, nipping at Castiel's earlobe. It shouldn't be this amazing – Castiel never thought his ears would be sensitive – but all of a sudden, Castiel feels like his whole body is an erogenous zone. Everywhere his Sentinel is in contact with him feels hypersensitive, and Castiel suddenly can only think about more, closer.

And this time, he won't let Dean stop him; Castiel pushes him off but follows him quickly before he can get any notions of rejection. Faintly, he remembers that at school, they had been warned to be very careful during bonding. Anything could make a Sentinel feel rejected in that delicate state of mind, and if that happened, it might have consequences reaching far into the relationship. It's that thought that brings Castiel back to his senses, and he immediately wraps himself around Dean and buries his face in his neck. He doesn't have a Sentinel's elevated senses, but his mundane senses work well enough; he breathes in Dean's clean smell of skin and sweat. Dean makes a happy noise when Castiel nuzzles his shoulder and breathes in deeply; he wants to bite, but if he does, he just knows they'll lose their minds again, and they seriously need to get out of their clothes. The wetness in their pants is drying into stiffness and it's getting really uncomfortable.

So he says, again in the deep, calming tone of voice of a Guide who's trying to soothe his Sentinel, just one word: "Clothes."

Dean hums unhappily, but doesn't protest when Castiel pulls back. He cheers up visibly, however, when Castiel pulls off his shirt; the newly exposed expands of skin obviously make up for the few moments they won't be pressed close together. Smiling, Castiel catches the hands Dean reaches out to him with and twines their fingers, but only for a moment. Bending down to give Dean a soft kiss, Castiel rolls off his Sentinel to quickly open both their pants and pulling them, underwear included, off both of them. Their shoes put a sudden stop to that; Castiel laughs and kicks his legs, which doesn't help any, but he just feels like he could laugh all the time. Next to him, Dean huffs and presses his face into Castiel's naked shoulder; Castiel can feel his teeth as he grins. He curls on his side and forcefully pushes off his shoes and the rest of his clothes, then he pulls off Dean's. The Sentinel is still wearing his shirt, but he apparently isn't inclined to wait any longer; he suddenly pounces and wraps himself around Castiel.

Castiel shudders with delight at the skin on skin contact, but he really wants to see and feel Dean's naked chest. So he wraps his legs around Dean's hips and pulls his shirt up until it bunches under his arms. He insistently pulls until Dean huffs, but his Sentinel finally raises his arms and lets Castiel pull the shirt off. And then they both are finally, finally naked.

Castiel sighs happily and cups Dean's head with both hands, pulls him down to join their mouths and curl their tongues together. Dean makes an enthusiastic noise and pushes Castiel into the mattress; he slides his hands down Castiel's sides and then wraps his fingers around Castiel's wrists and presses them into the mattress next to his head. Castiel obediently keeps them there and watches, heart pounding in his chest, as Dean leans over his right hand and starts to smell his fingers.

He heard about this too; it's the phase where his Sentinel will take him in completely with all of his senses. It'll take _hours._ Castiel can't wait.

Dean spends a long time just smelling his right hand; Castiel wonders what he smells, what he touched today. Certainly the cone Castiel had held earlier, with a scoop of mint ice cream inside. Probably the fries he had before that, perhaps the carrots earlier in the day; maybe the metal spoon he held when he ate his Lucky Charms. The sand and ocean he touched, his siblings; the motel key, door handles, soap – it goes way too far back for Castiel to be able to recollect it all, especially right now. Occasionally, the tip of Dean's tongue flicks out, taking a taste of Castiel's skin. At one point, he presses the flat of his tongue onto the pulse point of Castiel's wrist; Castiel feels his blood racing through his veins and is sure Dean can hear and feel it as well. Dean lingers there for a moment, and then continues down Castiel's arm. He carefully licks and smells every inch of Castiel's lower arm, pressing the flat of his tongue again into the crook of his elbow; then he travels lower.

His Sentinel takes his time; he carefully takes in Castiel's smell everywhere, nuzzles him and peppers his skin with small kisses and tiny licks. When he reaches his armpit, Castiel gives a breathless laugh; it tickles. Dean presses an amused smile into his shoulder, then continues, a little less careful and tender.

When he's done with Castiel's right arm, Dean wanders across his collarbone and starts exploring this left arm. Eventually, Castiel has to close his eyes. It almost feels like he falls into a sort of zone; he hears his heartbeat, his breathing, feels Dean all over. His lips and his tongue, his breath cooling Castiel's skin; the warmth of his body as he hovers over Castiel, the occasional brushes of his hands and body. Through their building bond, he feels Dean grow more and more confident and secure in their connection as it blooms between them.

Once or twice, Castiel can't stand it anymore and tries to move; when Dean nuzzles his nipples and then starts to suck on them, and when he nibbles on his hipbone. But every time he so much as twitches with intent, Dean pauses; once, when Castiel moves his knee to touch him, he even growls. Castiel takes the hint and relaxes back into the mattress, no matter how difficult it becomes after a while.

By the time Dean finishes with his last toe, Castiel is thrumming with tension; throughout all his exploration, Dean carefully kept away from his erection, and Castiel is so hard it hurts.

"Turn around," Dean whispers. Castiel is surprised he can even speak; he himself isn't sure if he could right now, even if he wanted to.

He gives a tortured groan when he realises that Dean intends to continue his exploration with the other side of his body; he doesn't think he could bear that. "Please," he whines, and Dean hums and nuzzles his ankle. Then, suddenly, he pushes up; after the previously slow, careful exploration of Castiel's body, the movement is startling. Castiel takes a breath, but the next moment he forgets anything he might have intended to say as hot lips suddenly wrap around his cock. Dean's mouth is wet and insistent as he descends on him, sucking enthusiastically; Castiel doesn't manage to withstand the pleasure for long before he comes with a yell, erupting with hot spurts in Dean's mouth.

After that, he's a bit dizzy for a while; he's vaguely aware of Dean humming and nuzzling his softening cock and balls for a moment before he pulls away, and then Dean's head comes to rest on his belly. Castiel is still breathing heavily when he raises his hand and puts it on his Sentinel's head; he feels clumsy and weak, his fingers are trembling. He feels Dean's satisfaction, but also that Dean isn't done yet.

His Sentinel gives him a moment, no doubt listening to his heartbeat and breathing; when Castiel has calmed down a little, Dean prods him until he turns on his stomach, then continues his exploration from Castiel's feet up. It makes Castiel slightly uncomfortable, all the places Dean touches; there's just the general idea that some body parts are less clean than others, and though he knows that doesn't matter to Sentinels – they can smell it all no matter how close they are – he's not used to being touched to begin with. He has never felt the desire to acquire a long-term lover; he's a romantic, always believing that he'll find his Sentinel some day. He has had sex once or twice, but never really felt the desire to actively pursue anything.

That has changed now, and it's a bit overwhelming; the new bond, a whirlwind in his mind, coursing through his body. Dean is everywhere, in him, all around, and he feels dizzy with it. That he's pushed to his limits makes it only an all the more heady experience; his life is changing all around him and will never be the same. And while that is scary, it's also exciting, liberating. He has read silly wedding cards that read "this is the first day of the rest of your life", and it's never been more true than in cases like this. He practically feels their lives entwine, as silly and romantic as it sounds.

Dean, having already explored Castiel's left leg and currently located in the hollow of his right knee, huffs, as if he's been reading his mind. He hasn't, a fledging bond doesn't go as deep, but his Sentinel obviously catches some of his giddiness. Pressing his curved lips into the sensitive, thin skin he's hovering above, Dean pats Castiel's hip and then continues his exploration upwards. Castiel relaxes into the mattress, already feeling tension glimmering in him again as he slowly gets aroused once more.

Dean noses up his inner thigh, almost up to the crease of his buttock, then down again; he presses his lips again into the hollow of his knee and whispers, just barely loud enough for Castiel to understand, "I'm not even done yet and already I know you're the most delicious thing ever."

Castiel takes a breath, a little shakily. "Dean, you're-"

"Shh," Dean murmurs, patting Castiel's hip again. "Voice later. Smell now."

Huffing, Castiel folds his arms and rests his face in them, letting Dean continue his imprint.

There's not much sexual about it; Dean's touch is not exactly innocent, but the intent behind it is not to arouse. He's taking Castiel in, his smell and taste and his feel, inscribing him in his mind. Castiel knows that by the time they're done, Dean will be able to find him anywhere – no matter how far Castiel will be away, Dean will be able to pinpoint his location and find him. In that aspect, Castiel is at a slight disadvantage: he doesn't have the refined, special senses of a Sentinel. He does have other senses, though, and he'll always be able to tell how Dean is feeling. When the bonding has had a few years to mature, he might even be able to tell Dean's thoughts.

Already, Castiel can feel twinges, shadows of Dean's smug satisfaction, his giddiness; one thing is sure, his Sentinel is quite happy with his Guide. And though he knows Dean isn't exactly fragile, he already feels fiercely protective of him; protective and possessive. The Sentinel is supposed to be the possessive one – he's learned that in training – but Castiel already knows that he'll be just as proprietorial as Dean, if not more. Dean is _his,_ and it's Castiel's job to make sure he's happy and content; he won't let anybody interfere.

By the time Dean has made his way into the hollow of his back, Castiel is rock-hard again and feels like he never came. Dean is thorough, gentle and intent, sliding his hands over each inch of Castiel's skin, dipping into curves and wrapping around angles. His hands are followed by his face, the tip of his nose grazing over Castiel's skin, sometimes hovering in places and followed by soft lips and a sneaky tongue. Most of the time, Dean just gives him ghostly kisses, occasionally a flick of the tip of his tongue, but every now and then he surprises Castiel with the flat of his tongue or little nips of his teeth. It's more than enough stimulation to keep Castiel completely focused on what he's doing, and almost painfully aroused.

When Dean finally finishes with his very thorough exploration of Castiel's back and shoulders with a small nip at the top of his neck, Castiel can't hold back a relieved moan. Dean gives a little snort and nips at his upper arm before continuing his exploration of the same, spending a lot of time with Castiel's elbow, licking the  
thin skin on top of it and at one point even bending Castiel's arm so he can suck on it a little. At that point, Castiel loses control a little over the noises he makes; nobody has ever spent any time whatsoever touching his elbow. Castiel had never even thought about it as a body part that was sensitive, or even rewarding to touch. If he hadn't known that before, now at the latest he would've realised that he would emerge from this bonding as a completely new person.

Thankfully – Castiel thinks he'd probably lose his mind otherwise – Dean doesn't spend a lot of time with his lower arm and the back of his hand; he's still careful to smell and touch everywhere, but he was fairly thorough earlier, when he started with Castiel's hand. After that, Castiel only has to make it through Dean's exploration of his other arm without humping the bed, and then it'll be _his_ turn.

Dean gives a satisfied hum when he finishes with Castiel's other hand, only to blink in confusion when Castiel flips around eagerly and wraps an arm around his neck, pulling him into a demanding kiss. He responds eagerly enough, but pulls away after a moment to complain, "I wasn't finished." There's a small frown on his face and he might actually be _pouting,_ which is almost too much for Castiel to process.

"What-" Castiel starts, meaning to ask what in the world Dean might have left out, but then Dean cups his face and starts to nuzzle his cheek and he figures it out. "Okay," he gasps when Dean starts to nibble at his jaw, "but you have to fuck me afterwards." The look Dean sends him at that is scorchingly hot and all the confirmation Castiel needs.

He manages to keep still while Dean nuzzles his face, licking and nipping and occasionally even using his teeth; he doesn't manage to keep silent, especially not when Dean starts to lick and suck at his throat only to move up to Castiel's ears. His ears have always been sensitive, his siblings used to tease him by flicking or even twisting them – Dean is a lot more careful and nearly drives Castiel crazy in the process. When Dean then starts carding his fingers through Castiel's hair and burying his nose in it, Castiel can't hold back a tortured groan, though he stays completely limp in his Sentinel's grip and doesn't make any motion of pulling away.

With a huff, Dean pulls away. "You're impatient," he remarks, sliding the tips of his fingers through Castiel's hair and over his cheekbones.

"I _want_ you," Castiel replies, slightly desperate, and Dean's expression changes from a heady mix of amusement and reverence to focused lust. The next moment their mouths are pressed together again, tongues entwining, and Dean's hands slide down from Castiel's face over his nipples to his hips, where they clamp down hard to keep him from thrusting up.

"You're _mine_ ," Dean says, expression dangerous like he expects Castiel to protest.

Castiel doesn't feel inclined to at all; he gasps "Yes" and "Please", spreading his legs and wrapping his arms around Dean's neck. He whimpers with relief when Dean moves between his legs and finally, finally brings his full body into contact with Castiel's. Dean's grip on his hips prevents him from rubbing their cocks together, but that's probably for the better: Castiel feels like he's balancing right on the edge, anything could tip him over and make him come. Which wouldn't be that dramatic because there are going to be a number of orgasms over the next couple of days, but Castiel only wants to come when Dean's inside him physically as well.

His eyes roll back and he groans when suddenly, one of Dean's fingers is at his hole, wet with lube that Castiel has no idea where he got it came from. Thankfully, Dean doesn't waste any time and pushes it inside, carefully, but with intent, spreading the lube and stretching him. His eyes are focused on Castiel's face, taking in every tiny change in expression, making sure he's not hurting Castiel in any way. His control is astounding.

He doesn't rush through the preparation at all, keeps his fingers gentle and steady, pausing whenever Castiel's face so much as twitches the wrong way. It would drive Castiel mad with impatience and need if Dean didn't distract him with long, exploring kisses and by looking at him like he's someone extraordinarily special. Still, by the time he has four fingers in him he's whimpering wantonly, needing to have Dean inside him _now._

Dean abides, thankfully, coating his dick with more lube than is probably necessary and then guiding himself to Castiel's hole. He pushes in slowly, too slow for Castiel's taste, but he refrains from protesting. Instead he pulls his legs up a little, wraps them around Dean, giving him even more room to move; they both groan as Dean slides in all the way.

They stay completely still for a moment, both breathing heavily and staring at each other, before Dean pulls back a little and rocks back in. Castiel moans when the head of Dean's dick slides over his prostate, and that seems to be what Dean has been waiting for; he pulls back almost completely and then pushes back in, picking up a steady, deep rhythm that drives Castiel crazy. He doesn't manage to hold back for much longer through that, and very soon, his body clenches up and he comes with a loud yell.

Afterwards, he's a little dazed; Dean picks his rhythm back up again after giving him a brief moment, and Castiel looks up at him and marvels at how beautiful he is. Dean's eyes are dark, pupils so wide they have almost swallowed up all the green, and his expression is intent and ecstatic, lips moist and a little open to let out his breath and the noises he makes. His muscles bulge and bunch as he thrusts into Castiel, he's tense all over and Castiel longs to see him come.

"Dean," he whispers, raising a hand to carefully, tenderly cup Dean's face, his thumb tracing Dean's lower lip. "Come in me, please."

Dean groans; his eyes flutter and and his hips slam into Castiel's hard, his whole body freezing up as he comes. Castiel whimpers when he feels the echoes of Dean's orgasm and wraps his arms tightly around Dean's neck as he collapses on top of him.

They don't fall asleep afterwards, not really; Dean curls up around Castiel and holds him tight, sliding his hands over the expands of Castiel's skin and breathing him in. Castiel's eyes are closed as he basks in both their afterglow and in their new bond; it's not really there yet, only fledgling, but it feels glorious already.

Dean rubs his cheek against Castiel's chest and says, "Tell me about yourself."


End file.
